body image

I have a skinny daughter. She came out of the womb as a wiry, nimble sprite. For years she was in the 5th percentile for BMI on the pediatric charts. Her natural tendency for sprinting and jumping led her into a decade long love affair with competitive gymnastics. As I watched her tumble and fly, I teetered along with a low grade anxiety praying she wouldn’t break her neck. Then came the day she had to abruptly stop at age 13 as a result of impact related injuries to her elbows. Broken wings.

Devastated by the loss and plummeting endorphins, she redirected her energy bit by bit. My elfin child, made of delicate bones but thick skin, managed to focus on other sports by the time high school came around.

But the years of conditioning and the 20+ hours at the gym delayed her puberty. As a result some people think she’s a child. At 15 that really makes her mad. Yet to her delight she shot past her older sister by an inch or two – a seemingly unexpected reward of her retirement.

But she’s still skinny.

She recently participated in a study assessing lifestyle and body image concerns. She texted me, “Why are there all these questions about feeling fat? What if you feel too thin?” Of course, her observation was keen. (Science can be biased.) Weighing not more than 96 pounds throughout high school, I felt for her. She inherited my body type and could blame our lineage. Unconvincingly, I remarked that she would feel much happier about her body later in life.

But what about now? “I’m just an awkward person, mom.”

“No you aren’t,” I tell her, “but I get that you feel that way.”

I’ve met countless girls and women over the years who feel badly about their bodies; they are often caught in a vicious cycle of negative social comparison. Some of them inflict self-harm and suffer greatly.

Maybe it’s a tired story. We are well aware that poor body image is an epidemic reinforced by social media, ratings and rankings, and cultural images of unnatural beauty standards. But we don’t do much to teach kids how to handle the onslaught. We fail to recognize that their exquisite, delicate brains are meticulously paving belief patterns and behaviors that shape their identities and experiences of the world. They can be brainwashed.

Sadly, many parents can be self-deprecating about their own appearance or critical of others. Friends can be over-invested in appearance and downright mean. One idiosyncratic physical flaw or mannerism can indict a kid to years of torment. Children can easily develop a habit of mind that is overly judgmental and disconnected from their bodies and inner spirits.

I’ve been thinking about what I wish for my daughter knowing that if I tried to have a conversation about body image she might roll her eyes at me. Or else she may quip, “I know I know, mom. Anyways, you are a psychologist. You are supposed to say that.”

But I have no script. The body image curriculums I know so well fall far short of what we really want our girls and boys to inhabit when it comes to body confidence. It’s not just knowledge, cognitive skills or empowerment. That’s too ephemeral.

I believe we need to be more, dare I say it, spiritual.

What do I wish that both my daughters understand – or embody – now? I’ve been reflecting on this for quite a while and what I have discovered is really a wish for all children. If I were to leave a letter under my awkward daughter’s pillow or whisper in her ear, here’s what I would say:

My Skinny Girl,

I have a secret to share. It may be hard to understand now, but trust me.

Our bodies are simply physical vessels containing our expansive souls. With that said, your body is sacred so take gentle care of it.

You were born unto this world with a purpose you will yet discover. With that said, dig deep and let your spirit soar.

The mind is both imaginative and tricky; it will tell you stories about who you are that aren’t true. With that said, listen to your heart more than your head.

The crafted images we see of what we should look or be like are make-believe and can cause disconnection, shame and loneliness. With that said, don’t let others define you.

People can be kind and cruel; mostly they are trying to feel better about who they are. With that said, mindfully gather your tribe of bravehearts.

Don’t be someone else’s happy pill. Some friends aren’t worth the energy it takes to bolster their self-worth at the expense of your own. With that said, compassion is as much about good boundaries as it is about caring.

Being alive means having a fair share of suffering and joy. With that said, it’s good to have both thick skin and an open heart (as you do).

You are gifted with innate emotional intelligence radiating throughout your amazing body, head to toes. With that said, trust your vibes.

We are not confined to our physical bodies alone, but intimately connected to all of humanity and the planet we inhabit. With that said, go forth with fearless love and kindness.

While this may sound strange or unfamiliar, if you remember anything I say, know that you are a cherished angel. With that said, I love you – broken wings and all.

That’s the question that a new Dove film asks mothers and daughters. In documentary style, moms and their daughters (7-10 years old) are asked – separately – to write two lists: what they like about their bodies and what they don’t like.

The first time I watched the film, all of three minutes, I found myself holding my breath. Oh god, what are my daughters, now ages 14 and 16, adopting about the way I view my body or myself?

In the film, when the mother and daughter pairs’ lists were compared, the things they liked and disliked about their body were remarkably similar. If a mom complained about her legs, so did the daughter. If a mom liked her smile, so did the girl.

I watched the film a few more times, putting myself in the role as mom, and as the daughter…my 8- or 12- or 16-year-old self.

To be sure, some women will watch this film and say, “Oh here’s another mother-bashing moment.” Surprisingly, I don’t feel that way. And I’m in a profession that tends to examine childhood hurts and “empathic failures” of parenting to a fault. Instead, I found the film to be a teachable moment. The moms and girls were relatable and endearing; it made me take pause.

And that is the whole point of the film—coming to a moment of self-awareness about the ways we may be influencing our children, intentionally or otherwise.

It also invites a retrospective lens on what beliefs we may have carried forward that may not have been our own to start with.

When I reflect back on my childhood I remember feeling skinny, awkward and ugly. I was the girl who stuffed a training bra with tissues, with little added result. Yet, this self-consciousness didn’t come as some sort of message from my mother. In fact, she missed, and often dismissed, any coming-of-age angst I may have expressed. But no matter. Culture was an influential teacher, even in the hang loose, hippie heyday of the 1970s where a bra was a non-essential.

As my luck had it, my mother was an extraordinary beauty. I admired and felt proud of her natural good looks as some badge of honor I could benefit from. “Your mom is so pretty!” my girlfriends would say. She was much more than that.

My mom handed down an appreciation of the European aesthetic she grew up in, a value for arts and culture, and the gift of grace. She had an aptitude for pulling herself and her two girls together with virtually no financial resources. In hindsight it’s no surprise that she became an Avon Lady selling cosmetics door-to-door, sashaying into the homes of dour housewives, who were charmed by her German accent and her Sophia Loren looks. She had a talent for helping them feel beautiful not only with make-up and perfume samples, but with the wholehearted attention she poured over them.

I doubt any of her customers, largely middle and lower class women living on the coast of Connecticut, had any idea whatsoever that our family was on food stamps, that her husband left the family bankrupt, and that we relied on the generosity of friends to help get us by.

The beauty legacy I inherited from a beautiful woman was not about the shape of my nose, the thickness of my thighs, or the texture of my hair—timeless issues that so many girls obsess over. As the Dove’s Legacy film portrayed, moms are central role models for their children. They pass on beliefs and feelings about beauty, self-worth and so much more.

The legacy that I inherited was this unspoken rule that under no circumstances could anyone know that we were poor. The trick was we had to have a really good cover. The only way that my sister and I could travel through life was to look very put together, neat and clean, and yet trendy. My mother had style. She sewed our outfits. She frequented the local second hand shop, trading our old clothes for the newer, “gently worn” items of the more fortunate.

It was a childhood lesson in “fake it until you make it.”

This had its consequences as my sister and I became teenagers. I remember my first date, the late bloomer that I was, in my sophomore year in high school. A friend’s older brother, the lanky star of the basketball team, invited me to the homecoming dance. I was excited and terrified at the same time.

My girlfriends’ mothers were buying the current fashion of the early 80s: the dreamy Gunny Sack dresses with lace and high collars. Surely we could not afford a Gunny Sack dress. I cried about it. My mother, to her credit, agreed to buy me a short sleeve blouse of the coveted brand. We then went to the fabric store and bought three yards of a sage green print – to match the ribbon trim in the blouse. We sewed a long flowing skirt. And despite my mom’s resourcefulness, I felt ashamed and angry. I feel badly about it now, but that’s a teenager for you. (Today it’s overpriced Uggs and Lululemon yoga pants that are a topic of contention between my girls and me.)

When I met my date’s mother, holding a cocktail in one hand and a cigarette in the other, she lavished over me. She droned, “Why, honey, aren’t you simply lovely. You look like a doll.”

I died inside. Indeed, I felt like a Madame Alexander collectable doll. The worst part, of course, was the only judge was me.

Later in college when I started dating a handsome soccer player, I laughed out loud when he later told me that he thought I was a rich girl from the exclusive township of Greenwich, Connecticut. I seemed untouchable, he noted, and this inspired his pursuit.

It’s funny when I think back that this was the beauty legacy I inherited: to be well put together, look wealthy (not poor), and appear out of reach so that no one could know the real story of my life.

This morning I watched my younger daughter getting up an extra half hour early for school so that she could straighten her long hair with an iron. I remember I did the same, but with hot curlers.

No matter what our mothers may want for us, or say to us about how wonderful we are on the inside, or complain about their own body image, there’s no doubt that girls are raised in part by a much larger force: our culture. My older daughter laments about her thick (and luscious) hair that other girls would die for. My younger daughter thinks that she has a round, fat nose which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Yet, I understand girls are a by-product of the communities they live and play in – off line and online. Unquestionably, mothers can’t help but hand down their beliefs or “legacies,” including those that go beyond looks or body image.

It’s interesting to me that my girls are keenly aware that our family is not rich. Self-comparison is the name of the game in adolescence, especially observing the haves and have-nots. They complain that I’m still driving a 14-year old, rusty mini-van because soon they want to drive a much cooler car. Our house could use a paint job. And we’ve never taken a family vacation to Disney World.

Yet, they have no real idea of what it means to be poor, either. That’s because I have done my best to protect them from the experiences I had as a child, which were largely shrouded in secrecy and shame. I can’t say that this is a good thing. My girls have been well protected from the plight of a broken home, relying on food subsidies, or having to put up a good front. They can only imagine it and, frankly, no kid wants to be lectured about it.

I have no doubt that they will experience losses and hardships. Struggle is necessary, as is failure. That’s the only way to understand what it means to fully live in the world. It requires having to draw on inner resources and resilience you don’t know you have until you are tested by life. At the same time, I am mindful that the lessons I want to teach my daughters is not about the necessity of fitting in or standing out – paradoxical messages they get from society – but of the imperative for kindness and compassion. But mostly, I want them to know they have beautiful spirits and a life of purpose.
It’s a subtle teaching and I have no idea if it will work, but I find myself shifting how I speak to them, which de-emphasizes their looks, social dramas, or complaints.

How’s your spirit today?

Be open to the unexpected surprises.

Smile and see who smiles back.

What made you laugh?

Name one delightful thing you experienced today.

Savor the moment.

Do something nice for someone.

Say thank you.

They pretend to ignore me or roll their eyes. But I don’t mind. The point is our lives are full of riches. And one way or another, they will absorb it. That’s the legacy I hope to pass down.

Visit www.Dove.com/Legacy or Facebook.com/Dove for more information on the 5th Annual Dove Self-Esteem Weekend, to access free self-esteem tools and resources specifically created for moms, mentors and teachers to motivate and inspire young girls.

*Disclosure. I am an expert global advisor to the Dove Self Esteem Project, which has a social mission to improve body confidence in girls. I provide expertise on evidence-based content and curriculum development to support educational initiatives on self-esteem and positive body image in girls. My participation on the Dove Self-Esteem Project advisory board is not an endorsement the DOVE products. The opinions stated on my blog/website are my own.

Like Goldilocks, nothing is fitting just right for me. Or like silly Winnie the Pooh, I just feel like saying:

Oh bother.

It started with the bothersome news that Mattel and the Girls Scouts of the USA teamed up on a career Barbie doll promotion. Ostensibly, this deal was about an online Barbie game, showing all the wonderful and smart careers a girl could have while wearing mini-skirts and high heels. It seems like an uncomfortable arrangement. But $2M is $2M, and the GS needed it, no doubt. It’s a changing world and they need to stay relevant. I’m all for collaborations that makes sense, but this one just doesn’t feel right to me. And the “Do Anything, Be Anything” patch with the Barbie insignia for Daisies and Brownies? Mere 1st through 3rdgraders? That crossed the line for me. I’m siding with the folks who want GS to end their relationship with Mattel. The Girls Scouts could do so much better.

It doesn’t help that a small study was recently published suggesting that girls who are exposed to a Barbie doll – compared to girls exposed to a Mrs. Potato Head doll – may have limited views of potential careers for girls relative to careers for boys. Had the study been published earlier, maybe the GS would have thought twice about hopping into bed with Mattel. Goldilocks, I feel your pain.

Oh bother.

Then we have LeanIn.org’s #BanBossy campaign (also in partnership with the Girl Scouts, by the way). I have many friends and female entrepreneurs colleagues who love Sheryl Sandberg’s campaign. These are highly motivated women who persevere and demonstrate true grit in starting their own businesses. Empowered women are bossy. They have to be. They may have had their share of bossy (aka bitchy) comments over a lifetime. And yes, the word can be condescending, interfere with job promotions, and thwart fundraising. I get it. We’ve been told that a woman who is capable in her role is often perceived as being bossy, whereas her male counterpart is seen as an inspired leader. It’s also been reported that less than 5% of women entrepreneurs succeed in securing venture capital. This is part, because they go it alone and don’t bring along their football pals to fill the C-level positions. (I hear this on the street.) But let me tell you, smart and sweet doesn’t get women very far either. That might be interpreted as sassy. Shall we ban that word, too?

I work with girls and young women who could use a good dose of bossy. Be bossy! I want them to ignite their inner CEO, find meaningful work, and do what they stand for. My favorite commentary on the #BanBossy brouhaha is from Keli Goff at the Daily Beast. Her take is personal.

The bottom line is worrying about a word is a luxury that only kids who are already growing up with a host of advantages can afford. If Sandberg wants to make a real difference, she should put her money where her mouth is and come up with solutions that will insure more equality for girls who have more pressing concerns beyond banning bossy.

Right on. I was raised by a single mother and we had our share of struggles. #BanBossy just doesn’t resonate for me in the least (nor does “lean in.”) The whole campaign makes me feel like I’m supposed to “fit in” with the smart girls. It’s all rather cliquey. I guess I’m just not feelin’ it.

Oh bother.

But you can’t talk about #BanBossy without also talking about the Pantene ad that may have inspired Sandberg’s new initiative. A Pantene ad called “Labels Against Women” went viral in the Philippines last winter (video). It spotlights sexism in the workplace. When Sandberg caught wind of it and endorsed it, P&G, the parent company, quickly disseminated it in the US. LeanIn.org partnered with Pantene in the #BanBossy initiative. It’s all very cozy.

As it is, Pantene created a very compelling ad. The last I checked there were 46 million views on YouTube. Their hashtag, #ShineStrong, has a more hopeful and upbeat message than #BanBossy. I might even buy the product for my teen daughters when it goes on sale at the grocery store. (The whole end game for P&G.) My girls are killing their lovely long strands with flat irons as it is. But I’ll never be a Pantene loyalist, either.

Oh bother.

I ponder instead. Who seems to be getting it right?

I have The Representation Project to thank. They have an online campaign to raise awareness of sexism in the media. #NotBuyingIt encourages people to take action and engage in a public conversation. They also have #MediaWeLike to spotlight media that empowers women/girls and boys/men. At its core, this is excellent media literacy. After all, media as a communication channel is neither good nor bad. It just depends on how it is being used. So let’s use it for the greater good.

The greater good. What of late has inspired me in the arena of women’s empowerment? A guy named Nikolay Lamm, that’s who. Last year he created 3-D rendition of what a fashion doll (ok, Barbie) would like look like if she was based on an average 19-year-old woman. He asked: “What if fashion dolls were made using standard human body proportions?” The public loved it. Lamm recently went for crowd funding and raised almost a half a million dollars to manufacture the “Lammily” doll. His campaign title? Average is Beautiful. What’s not to love?

Rather than waiting for toy companies to change their designs, let’s change them ourselves by creating a fashion doll that promotes realistic beauty standards.

Product. Message. Movement. This guy gets it. I pre-ordered two dolls in honor of my daughters. Although they will be too old to play with a Lammily doll by the time it’s manufactured, the purchase is symbolic. Maybe the doll will go to college with them as a reminder from Mom that they are beautiful just they way they are.

Yes, the Lammily doll. Now here’s an initiative that the Girl Scouts of the US should just jump at even if it involves no funding. It’s a credibility issue. Plus, moms of up-and-coming Daisies, Brownies and Scouts will care. They all start selling cookies like mad. And a Lammily patch? Now that is something to consider.

I was a Girl Scout once. We made our own revolutionary outfits for the ’76 bicentennial parade in town, donning our green sashes covered with badges. It felt like something bigger than myself. Opportunity was in the air. I wish my girls had been Scouts. But Title IX came long and they are fiendish athletes now. I’m not totally happy about the exclusivity that sports play in their lives, but they get in their social action whenever possible. I try to reframe the non-GS track in this way: maybe my daughters will bring along their soccer pals when they pitch for venture funding in another 10 years. But even without handing down the baton of the GS experience to my girls, the organization is making some good choices.

The Girl Guides in the UK just teamed up with Dove’s Self Esteem Project*, which is part of DOVE/Unilever –another beauty brand. The initiative includes a body image curriculum for girls and a “Free Being Me” patch to promote body confidence. It’s starting up in the US, too, among the Girls Scouts, and I hope it will prove more successful and fitting than the Mattel partnership. (Lammily would make a great body confidence mascot by the way.)

I love these kinds of initiatives. It engages girls on a positive level, not a defensive one. It speaks to one’s best self. I can’t help to recall the Free to Be You and Me series with Marlo Thomas and Friends. Oh, how I looked up to Marlo. Her show and catchy tunes had timeless messages for all kids to behold. (This was a project with the Ms. Foundation for Womenback in the 1970s, equal rights and all.) The idea was that a girl or boy could be anything they want to be; that all humans are connected (depicted by the song, Sister and Brothers), and it is ok to feel things deep down. Remember Rosie Grier, the football player, singing “It’s Alright to Cry”? It seems so retro and radical. And essential.

Ok, I know this rant totally dates me. But it helps to have bit of a lifetime perspective given the bumbling Bs of recent months. Am I right?

Oh bother.

* * *

*Disclosure. I am an expert global advisor to the Dove Self Esteem Project, which has a social mission to improve body confidence in girls. I provide expertise on evidence-based content and curriculum development to support educational initiatives on self-esteem and positive body image in girls. My participation on the Dove Self-Esteem Project advisory board is not an endorsement the DOVE products. The opinions stated on my blog/website are my own.

Raising girls is hard. Raising boys is hard. We live in a culture where toys are more gendered than ever. The statistics of violence against women has not changed in decades. Aggression in boys and men is on the rise. And the rate of pharmaceuticals given to children keeps increasing. It’s a wonder if any parent can get a restful night’s sleep. My girls tell me to stop reading, that I tend to think the worst, and that I worry too much. On the other hand, I’m the cool mom in the group, they have never been grounded, and as a family we hardly ever fight. Some something is working.

But since having conversation about serious issues with my teenage girls tends to fall flat, I have found videos to be the next best thing to getting a message across. Here are my 5 top picks:

Inspired by the actresses in The Color Purple that led her to a career in film, Lupita describes her childhood aches about beauty. She begins by reading a letter from a little girl and then shares her own story. Lupita wished to God she had lighter skin and prayed every night. But change never happened. Her perspective did.

With her mom in the audience Lupita tells the story of her transformation from self-hate to self-love. Her mother told her: “You can’t eat beauty… What she meant was, you can’t rely on how you look to sustain you. What actually sustains us, what is fundamentally beautiful, is compassion. For yourself and for those around you. That kind of beauty inflames the heart and enchants the soul.” Apparently, Lupita is also a poet.

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2) How Do YOU Define Yourself by Lizzie Velasquez at TedXAustinWomen (video)

Lizzie is one of only three people in the entire world with a rare syndrome that prevents her from gaining weight. She’s 25 years old, can only see in one eye, and has never weighed more than 64 pounds. She was cruelly bullied as a child, with people telling her that the world would be better off with out her in it. Her story is nothing short of stunning. Lizzie is living her dream as a motivational speaker.

I watched this clip with my 13 year old, who feels like she looks like she’s still in 4th grade, who was recently diagnosed with a degenerative bone condition that means the end of her 10 years of competitive gymnastics. No more pounding on the elbows, ever. For a little feisty kid known as Jumping Josie, it’s a unexpected life challenge. Listening to Lizzie was inspiring.

My girls watched Miss Representation when the film on girls and women was released. It is part of our DVD library. The film “exposes how mainstream media contribute to the under-representation of women in positions of power and influence in America.”

While empowerment movements abound for girls, however, they seem virtually non-existent for boys. It’s time we pay attention to our boys. I look forward to the film on boys and men. Recently, the trailer when viral. The message is urgent and clear. We can’t empower our girls without doing the same for our boys.

From the website: “Compared to girls, research shows that boys in the U.S. are more likely to be diagnosed with a behavior disorder, prescribed stimulant medications, fail out of school, binge drink, commit a violent crime, and/or take their own lives. The Mask You Live In asks: As a society, how are we failing our boys?”

One of the most common anxieties I hear from mothers , who seek me out about how to connect with their girls, centers around what’s happening in social media, cell phones and texting. They are frustrated with how self-absorbed girls seem to be. But social media and smart phones can also be a creative outlet and allow girls to show their real selves.

Taking a selfie is not the worst thing that can happen, remarks a girl in the film. Is the world going to combust into a million little pieces because I put a selfie out there?

The recent film by DOVE helps to open a conversation about beauty, body acceptance, and modern self-portraits. It revolves around a photography workshop with high school girls and their moms. The photographer asks the girls: “What if we figure out a way – when taking a selfie – to actually incorporate the things about us we don’t like?”

She also notes that moms often pass on their insecurities about their body or appearance to their children. “What if you work with your moms, who are also learning how to take selfies? Your moms can redefine beauty just like you can.” My favorite part was when girl in the film remarks on the self-portraits the other girls made.

I was surprised when I heard the girls talking about their insecurities. When they said they were insecure about things, those were things that made them different… but the things that made them different, made them unique. And that made them beautiful.

Warning Label: To watch this with your teen, you need to deal with the word sex.

Dr. Caroline Heldman is Chair of the Politics Department of Occidential College in Los Angeles. She is a vocal advocate for highlighting how mainstream media contributes to the underrepresentation of women in positions of power and influence in America.

I love this talk about sexual objectification and “the sex object test” for media literacy. I also appreciate how Caroline Heldman points out how women fail to enjoy their bodies when they continue view themselves as actors in a scene. We are always starring in our mind movies at the expense of being fully in our bodies.

If we accept the statistics that 70% of high schoolers have sex by the age of 17 (this is for you deniers out there) it’s time to be forthcoming about bodies, sex, respect for self and others, and being fully connected to our physical bodies.

This is in-your-face straight talk. It’s easier for Caroline Heldman to say it to your teen daughter than you.

In fact, some researchers have referred to it a “normative discontent.” Yes, feeling dissatisfied and ashamed with your looks, weight, and body shape. It’s a phenomenon finely sculpted by our culture and, ah hum, ladies, lasts a lifetime.

Body dissatisfaction manifests in many subtle and not so subtle ways. It starts as young as 6 years old and ignites around puberty. I am now living through pubertal journey No. 3. First me; my older daughter; and now my youngest. The pattern, if there is one: Late bloomer, on schedule, late bloomer.

I remember having to have to ask my mom for a training bra back in the 1970s, when halter-tops were the fashion. A hang loose era. The grownups were in their own bubble, while adolescent girls were donning their crisscross bras, obvious under the classic white tees.

Pretty Please

There was only one store for girls in the small town I grew up in. The Cortina Shop. It carried baby onesies, pajamas, and party dresses – 6 months to 14 years. There seemed to be an odd hush in the store when I had occasion to go in; it felt like being in church. No touching. No talking. It was intimidating. On a small rack in the back of the store, near the dressing room, was a row of small harnesses: Teenform 32AA – 34C. Pretty Please, Criss Cross. Lucky Star. (These could be names of horses in the Kentucky Derby.)

The packaging came with instructions not unlike Singer dress patterns, with line drawings on how to put one on. The training bras were without padding. There was a hint of lace. Maybe a rose bud in the middle. The bra wasn’t easy to get on or off.

At the time a girl might covet one or two bras at most. Eventually, the white fabric would turn a grungy yellow. Sometimes they were stuffed with Kleenex, a disaster in the wash and dryer. That first time “shopping” for a bra was mortifying. I had to ask mom to take me to Cortina’s. She complained that it was not necessary. Whether or not I needed a bra was not the point in my mind. As a post war German immigrant, my mom’s practicality trumped sensitivity. Plus, bras were an expense, relatively speaking. Having more than one was an indulgence – all the more so because I didn’t need one for a long time.

I digress. Now I have a tween. Tween is a marketing term that retailers use to describe a demographic of girls between the ages of 8 and 12. And it comes down to two personas that get promoted: princess and slut. (You can read Peggy Orenstein’s book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter to get a full picture of raising girls in today’s culture.) Yet, here is a word – tween – that aptly describes my petite 13-year-old. Officially a teenager, she laments that kids view her like she’s still a 4th grader. She hates being called “cute” in the hallways of middle school. In contrast, her best friend is the complete physical opposite and could easily be taken for a full-bodied senior in high school. They are quite a pair seen together and I love that they are still BFFs. Yet, both suffer from body image concerns. Neither fit the cultural norm. Not even close.

But who does? Less than 5% of all women, that’s who.

Another way of saying this:

95% of girls and women DO NOT and WILL NOT fit the cultural beauty ideal for women.

95%. That’s me and you, girlfriend. That includes our daughters, sisters, mothers and friends. (Sorry if I’m shouting at you.)

Levels of Lift

Thank god for sport bras. They are best things since training bras, truly. Couldn’t we be satisfied with these colorful and truly practical under garments? Think about it. They fit just about any girl, at any age, no matter what size or shape. They are especially handy for the breast bud phase as well as for the years when gravity finally takes its hold. Brilliant invention. But No. Victoria and Aerie have changed the lingerie landscape. They have taken girlhood to an extreme, glorifying the unrealistic standard for beauty to a new level of egregiousness by the sheer fact of targeting tweens and their credit card-carrying moms. Now girls have 100s of bras to choose from, including bralettes, bandeaus and corsets!

Recently, I found myself shopping with my daughter for undies. Target and Justice were just not cutting it anymore. Knowing what was ahead of me, I had one rule: no thongs. Indeed, my husband practically had a heart attack one night as he was helping out with piles of laundry. He pulled out a string of blue lace belonging to our eldest. Pinching the specimen, he declared, “I’m not folding any more. Sorry.”

PRETTY, SOFT, COMFORTABLE BRAS THAT FEEL SEXY AND LOOK BEAUTIFUL UNDER EVERYTHING YOU WEAR. FIND YOUR NEW LOVE IN OUR ENDLESS COLLECTION OF PUSHUP BRAS, MADE WITH SOFT LACE, DELICATE MESH AND FINISHED WITH THE PRETTIEST DETAILS. LEVELS OF LIFT GO FROM PERKY TO DOUBLE WHOA…

PERFECT PERKINESS FOR EVERY GIRL!

A bit of a stretch from 1970s Teenform: “Growing girls deserve first prize for the prettiest possible curve control.” Now, the more stacked the better. There is hardly a bra to be found that doesn’t have foam padding (the option is “lite padding”). In my sentimental google search for an image of my first bra I was mildly offended that the research brought up “vintage training bras.” Vintage!

Then I looked at the antique packaging, with sweet pre-teens on the cover, and felt a wave of emotion. I felt proud that I could speak up back then and tell my mom what I needed. I also felt sad that the innocence of a girl’s coming of age is a pastime.

Today’s girls and moms may be empowered with the sheer volume of choices, may enjoy wearing the lace and silk, and feel good in their bodies for a while – and yes, even acknowledge sensation and pleasure. A celebration! But to what end when the incessant messages about beauty, sexuality, and femininity are so narrowly defined?

I know moms who got boob jobs when their girls became teenagers. Cosmetic surgery is offered as a high school graduation gift. Often, mothers and daughters go together. And those mani-pedi parties for kindergartners?

Maybe there is another message we want to pass down. Maybe there is another way to celebrate the body.

Just maybe.

* * *

My daughter was very pleased with her new collection of undies. “I can’t wait to wear these even though no one will know!”

What did she do once we got in the car? She pulled one piece out of the bag, placed it on her head and exclaimed: “This calls for a Snapchat!”

***

(Short of buying a book, see history of the brassiere on Wikipedia. Patti Page in the 1960s is the real deal when it comes to perkiness. Curiously, the 1980s is missing!)

Boobs. They all want them. In some way, shape or form. The girls all want to look like Victoria’s Secret models before they have breast buds. From the time girls are in strollers to hanging with chums at the mall, Victoria’s Secret and younger sister brand, Pink, dominate the visual space. (Is it not totally unnecessary to have ginormous cleavage flanking the mall walls? But the customers, in the end, are men).

When I saw the bikini tops my 15 year old bought at the mall, I was like, seriously? This is what they are selling to the tweens and teens now? Bathing tops with 1 inch thick foam inserts that are sewn in?

I told my daughter that I appreciated the mix and match bathing suits. There is some progress in fashion industry when women can actually choose bottoms and tops that fit their body type. But I didn’t appreciate the unnecessary bulk, sorry to say. I told Sophie she had to return the pink falsie bikini top.

At some point a mom has to put her foot down. We can’t let culture take over! The bathing top has been sitting in her drawer for the last few weeks. I’m sure she’s lost the receipt by now. She really didn’t put up a fuss, funny enough. It may end up at a friend’s house. Or on Facebook, worn by someone else.

Then, on a recent morning, a client came in frazzled. I assumed it was a kid issue with school being out and structure tossed out the window. I simply asked how she was doing and what was the first thing she thought of when she woke up.

“I hate my body.”

That was your very first thought when you woke up?

“Yup, I feel disgusting. In fact, I can’t stand myself right now.”

Ooh. Harsh.

How many women wake up hating their bodies? The meanest hour of all must be the mornings, when you look in the mirror or take a shower. You are face-to-face with your body. Countless women have said similar things over the years. That internal conversation of mean fat talk. It’s even been referred to as “normative discontent.”

This self-loathing begins at an early age. And just like my daughter trying to have a body she doesn’t yet have—and may never grow into—makes me want to cry. I don’t know if she hates her body. She appears to still be idealistic and hopeful about her self, her body, her life.

Here’s the thing. We women become our own worst critics and we inadvertently teach this self-hatred to our girls, whether we say it out loud or not. We have a biological default setting to look out for the big, bad and the ugly (and often it’s the reflection in the mirror). It’s called the negativity bias and our brains are wired for it. Women are experts at social comparison. It’s innate. The problem is we negatively compare ourselves to others and have a difficult time appreciating the positive. Anything positive. Many women even give up on the very essential task of self-care. They just give up! Can’t blame them. Who can live up to the fashion covers and cultural messages about beauty and graceful aging? It’s hard to talk oneself out of self-loathing when the world shows you what you will never be.

Here’s the thing that women and moms need to embrace:

Love and appreciate the body you have, the body you’ve grown into. Do this for yourself and do this for your daughters. Help them change mindsets early on by treating yourself with kindness and self-care.

When you take care of your body and appreciate its amazing ability (to walk, run, play sports, dance, carry babies, and so), your children will take in this positive behavior and body image on an unconscious level.

Teach your girls that they will likely inherit the body shapes of other females in the family tree (biological relatives). This is REALITY. So the best way to take care of what nature gave you, is to eat well, exercise, reduce stress, get sleep, and be appreciative of your own gifts.

The most beautiful people are the ones who feel comfortable in their bodies no matter the size and shape.

I have to catch myself sometimes, though. I can be hard to walk the talk. Recently, I was musing aloud in the car. My younger daughter had her ear buds in.

I really need to find a gym. I like to get in some cardio. Yoga is great but I need to get my heart rate going more.

As if on cue, Josie, my younger daughter with the supersonic ears, proclaimed in a deadpan voice:

“When women reach midlife their metabolism changes. The nutrition and exercise that may have worked in the past won’t work now.”

I glanced at her for a long moment. Really?

“I heard that on a commercial recently.”

Well said. What diet pill were they pushing??

“I can’t remember. Some medication.”

So there you have it. The pharmaceutical companies take over from the damage the lingerie shops and fashion rags of the world have done to women’s self-confidence. Their advertising goes right to the heart to the matter – changing bodies – and spins this as a lost hope that only meds can revive.

Shoot me. (Ok, not really.) But it became a teachable moment for this mother and daughter pair about changing bodies over the lifespan—as well as a bit of media literacy on what the ads are selling. The fact of the matter? At my glorious middle age, I do need to exercise more—but for my heart health and for more energy. If I lose a pound or two, that’s a bonus.

No more talking aloud to myself. I just need to do it and let my daughters know I feel great when my body and mind are in a good place. That’s the best role model I can be.